Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
There’s a dull crack and then a pain that radiates up my arm, and now I can’t move it all at.
But I persevere. “Please, I’m sorry.” I gasp out the words, little choking sounds. “I beg for your leniency.” While I’m back down here, I insert the second disc into the slot, wincing as it moves my broken bones against each other, trying not to pass out. With the cloak over me, I can barely breathe, but it gives me the moment of privacy I need.
When the beep comes, I feel a burst of energy.
“If you’re just going to stay down there, it seems I will have to try you out.”
The Ocretion kicks me in the ribs, then I hear him start to fumble with his pants buckle. “We’ll see if you’re more obedient once you’ve been used like human slaves deserve.”
I push the upload button.
The guard stills.
“Wait. What was that sound? What are you doing?” He stops with his buckle and leans down. “Give me the discs.” His voice rises. “Are you wearing a comm?” He’s completely taken aback at the possibility. “Human slaves never get comms. Where…” He furrows his brow.
I was supposed to dig a hole and push the self destruct button on this specially engineered comm, starting a small explosion that would then burn the items in a contained but hot fire, leaving only ash behind.
But the Ocretion grabs at me, urgency in his hands, pulling at my garments.
If he sees me doing this, surely he’ll call on his comm for backup and tell them I’m a spy. They’ll find the discs, unscramble the comm, and come after Zandia.
I need to get rid of this immediately.
I activate the destruct button under my cloak, hoping it will mask the fire from burning me too badly.
There is a small pop and then a bright light and a searing pain in my hands. Then everything goes black.
But just a moment before I pass out, I think I hear my Zandian’s voice.
* * *
Drayk
My female. My little human.
She nearly died. I can’t get the image of Taisha’s crumpled form on the ground, the odious Ocretion battering her. Even as the ship speeds safely away, my body is in warrior-mode. I’m sick to my stomach. Ready to battle.
I would’ve liked to tear that Ocretion’s limbs off, but I couldn’t.
“Jump to hyper complete,” Tarak reports.
“Acknowledged.” I step back and turn. “Update on Taisha. How is she?” My voice is taut.
“Stable but still unconscious.” My med tech stands in front of me at the comm center, where Tarak and I just completed our stealth exit from the airspace of the planet.
“But she’s alive?” I step forward. “Speak faster.”
He puts up a hand. “Yes, Captain. She’s alive. Burns on her hands and forearms, and a broken wrist. We have her in the healing pack and have splinted the arm. She is improving as we speak, but will still need medical care when we arrive on Zandia.”
“Veck.”
“But we got the data!” My navigator’s voice is jubilant. “And she destroyed the evidence, and we left airspace without being noticed.”
“Except for the Ocretion we left dead back on the planet.”
“What will happen when he is noticed as missing?”
I run a hand over my face. “Since we used the toxin from our human on him, hopefully his peers will assume it’s a heart attack. Why he was in the woods, the excuse for that? They will wonder. We left no evidence of our presence.”
“In the end, a clean mission. As good as we could have hoped. Only one casualty, with a valid excuse, and nothing points to us. Nothing at all.”
“Except Taisha was on the planet,” I point out. “And she was seen by beings. If anyone reports her as being out of place, they might start to suspect something.”
“It’s a chance we had to take. It was a lower risk than us going personally. And at least now we have the information Dr. Daneth needs. He can get the children back.”
I nod. “It’s not an unmitigated success, but I’m cautiously optimistic.”
“She was brave.” Tarak looks toward the iso bay, where our human is still confined, albeit this time with more medical care.
“Yes.” I nod. “Indeed. It must have taken great courage to go there, knowing the risks.”
“I thought you were going to rip him apart, the Ocretion.”
“He deserved it,” I snarl, my fists clenching. I force them to relax. “But it was important not to leave any mark on him. By killing him with the syringe, it will leave the symptoms of a heart attack. Any damage on his body would be suspicious to the ones who find him.”
“Plus, you laid him out with his hands clutching his chest,” points out Tarak “That’s the classic way that Ocretions usually suffer from chest pain before they have an infarction.”